Chapter 5: The Dread Wastes

Papa and I keep Ambrose upright as we trek across the wasteland. Papa has torn part of his shirt and used loose twine to make a head covering. Ambrose squints and wipes sweat from his eyes.

“You doin’ okay?” Ambrose asks me as he limps forward. “I’m not too heavy for you, am I?”

The sun has baked his skin, the creases beneath his eyes wrinkling like tributaries of some unseen river.

“I’m okay,” I tell him, not revealing how much heavier he’d need to be before my legs would begin to fail.

“We’ve got to find shelter before last light, it’s going to get cold soon,” Papa says, his mind already solving the next problem. It’s amazing how drastic the temperature shift can be in the Dread Wastes. Once the sun goes down, the temperature isn’t far behind.

“We won’t make it to last light if that brute of a man catches up to us.” Ambrose glances back to ensure we aren’t being followed.

“He won’t. I saw him head in a different direction,” I tell him.

“Maybe we could sleep under that tree,” Ambrose says, pointing to a crooked husk in the distance. The lifeless trees dot the landscape, so thin and leafless they could barely offer shade in the day, much less shelter at night.

“I think we’d have better luck there,” Papa says, nodding to the horizon where rocks emerge from the dead land like the shoulders of a great beast.

“Those boulders there?” Ambrose squints. “How far do you think they are?”

“Not too far,” Papa says, already heading that direction. “Maybe a few hundred paces, but out here, visual perception can be deceiving.”

“You think we’ll get lucky enough to find shelter and water there?” Ambrose shakes his pouch above his mouth, coaxing out the last drop.

“Shelter? Hopefully. Water? I doubt it. That’s okay though. I have a plan.”

Papa always has a plan. I hate he’s banished to the Dread Wastes, but I’m glad he’s here with me. I’d probably be dead now if it weren’t for him. He’s the most intelligent person I know. He created my proths and designed my enhancements. I can’t imagine what my life would be like without them. He’s a genius at figuring things out, can make just about anything one could imagine. Before being banished, all the Plebs and Middlers would come to him for proth repairs.

I don’t know how Coghaven will survive without him. I guess his apprentice, Samuel Blackwood, will do the best he can. Papa tried to make me his apprentice for a while, but I get too distracted. Once I got my legs, I couldn’t stop moving.

We walk in silence for another hour. I try not to think about the fact that I’d already be in the shade if I were going the speed I’d like to. It’s like my legs are walking out from under me, wanting to be unleashed, wanting to run. I decide talking to Papa will distract me from wanting to sprint all the way to the rock outcropping.

“Papa, what did Lord Solomon mean when he called you ‘old friend?’ Were you really friends with that plugtail?”

“Language, Neeka.”

“Sorry, Papa.”

“When Solomon and I were young, we were indeed friends. We survived the Shift together, helped each other through those early days in Graven Pointe before Eden was even founded. We were close, even during the time when the Xulguns first arrived. Back then they were helpful to everyone, sharing their knowledge freely. This was long before they became hostile.”

The Xulguns. Lord Solomon hates them. The rest of us are just scared of them—except for Papa. He remembers the good times with the Xulguns and completely understands their hostility. I’ve never even seen one up close, just heard all the horrible stories about how they can tear you apart within seconds. I did see one from a distance once when the royal protectors had caught one. The crowd at the outdoor trial was so large, thousands of people stood between the court balcony and us Plebs. I was lucky to even get a glimpse, but from what I could tell, they don’t look much different than us humans. Except for their skin patterns and markings.

No one ever told me exactly what happened to make the Xulguns turn against us. It’s one of the many mysteries of my world, like the truth behind the Sacred Platform or how Solomon can traverse it without harm.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Neeka. I’ve kept many secrets from you over the years for your own protection. However, that time may be coming to an end.”

“I’m ready to know more, Papa.”

“Yes, you are, but now is not the time.” He sighs and we let the reality of that truth settle upon us before Papa transitions to more immediate concerns. “It will be dark in a couple of hours and we need to get a fire started for the night. It’s going to get cold out here.”

We walk in silence the rest of the way to the boulders. When we finally arrive, Papa sits on a rock and Ambrose collapses into a sliver of shade that only covers half his body. The hopping has exhausted him, even though Papa and I basically carried him. I’m glad we’re here to help—otherwise he’d be half-roasted in the sun rather than resting in the meager shade of these boulders.

“Neeka, come here, sweetie,” Papa says.

I walk over and he opens a small hidden panel on my left calf, pulling out a sliver of iron pyrite and a small chert stone. Perfect for starting a fire.

Ambrose’s eyes light up at the hidden treasures. “You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?” He smiles.

Papa sits while Ambrose clears rubble away and tries to gather kindling. He finds some twigs—small, but they might work if he gets enough. I can tell Papa is thinking something over. He takes his makeshift hat off and rubs the bald part of his head, staring out into the setting sun like it might share some revelation with him.

“I wish we didn’t have to leave those water pouches,” he says.

“We were lucky to get out of there with our lives,” Ambrose responds, shocked Papa had any regrets.

“Yes, but it’s such a waste to leave them. They’re guarded only by dead bodies. Just sitting there, free for the picking.”

Ambrose sighs. “Not much we can do about it now.”

Papa looks at me and grins. “Neeka could probably snatch them up pretty quick without a couple of oldsters weighing her down.”

“You’re gonna send Neeka? Back there? She’s just a little girl,” he asks, incensed.

Ambrose is sweet to worry, but he doesn’t know what I’m capable of.

“Neeka’s legs are not ordinary proths,” Papa says. “She can cover the distance in no time at all.”

“How is that possible?” Ambrose asks, studying my face as if looking for clues.

Papa turns to him. “You know how most proths are made using mini hydraulics?”

“Yeah.”

“I designed Neeka’s differently. Along with hydraulics, I used hundreds of gears, springs and belts. The design makes them much faster. And although the components are more fragile than hydraulics alone, they’re well protected with the outer shell.” Papa reaches over and knocks on my leg’s hard covering. “I also placed a power crystal in each leg for an extra boost.”

Ah yes, those wonderful power crystals—a wonderful gift from the Shift, born from the same chaos that reshaped our world. Solomon controls most of them now. They’re hard to come by and expensive, though they can still be found scattered throughout the world. He shares them freely with the Royals, of course. I’ve managed to steal a few over the years. I’m sneaky like that, and my royal victims usually have no idea I was even there.

It’s amazing how much power comes from something so small.

“I’ll be back before dark,” I tell them.

“Those pouches are a long way off,” Ambrose objects.

Papa and I share a laugh. I do a few little bounces on my toes and close my eyes, breathing in the dry air. I reach down and pick up a handful of sand, letting it fall between my fingers, feeling in my hand what I can’t feel with the soles of my feet.

“You know what you’re doing, sweetie,” Papa says. “Be careful and if you see danger, do what you do best.”

I nod and say I will. He gives me a kiss and tries to hide how nervous he is, but I know I’m too fast for any bandit or baldagaar to catch me. And then, I’m off. The air is crisp and cool on my face, even in this scorching sun. The thin mist of sweat on my cheeks evaporates in an instant, my hair wild in the wind despite being bound behind my head.

I’ve run at full speed many times in Eden, intermittently hiding behind walls, buildings and shrubs. But never have I been able to open up like this. I’ve heard that in the old world, there were animals called gazelles that could run and leap faster than the wind. This must be what it felt like to be one—this pure freedom, this boundless joy. It reminds me of racing my brother through Coghaven’s narrow streets, before everything changed. Before the platform took him from us. Before my mechanical legs.

Minutes seem to fly by in an instant and before I know it, I’m almost at the site of the battle when I see something unexpected. I slide to a stop and drop low, hiding behind a large rock.

Bandits!